


Space Elf & Desert Boy

by miss_umbra



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AU, M/M, canon adjacent, soft keitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-13 07:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16013129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miss_umbra/pseuds/miss_umbra
Summary: Lotor was an unwanted prince, sent to live in exile on a primitive planet called Earth.Keith was all alone. Shiro was gone, and he was expelled from the garrison.The desert calls.





	1. Chapter 1

This primitive dust pit was the latest in his father’s attempts to reform him. Or punish him. Break him? The prince wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew was that none of his various trials and exiles had made a lick of a difference yet. His exile on this primitive planet would not, either.

 

Long white hair was whipped around by a sudden, arid wind. Lotor grimaced and covered his eyes, shielding from the sand and grit that was blowing around. This planet had such vastly different climes, depending on which area of it you were on. It never ceased to both amaze and annoy.

 

When Lotor was first exiled, it was in an area full of green vegetation and moderate temperature. Clear, drinkable water flowed freely in streams. Hunting was easy enough. Among the prince’s limited supplies was a scaltrite knife, and it had proved very useful. The creatures he caught were small, with gamey flesh and tiny bones, but they filled the stomach well enough.

 

To his delight, Lotor discovered there were more challenging animals as well. It was still not a fair fight, but there were muscular, predatory creatures to hunt as well, with dark shaggy fur, teeth, and claws.

 

The weather was not constant. After a few phoebs, the streams iced over. The foliage dried out and withered up. Hunting was not as plentiful, and the cold burned his unconcealed skin.

 

The local's reaction to him throughout the years was.. Amusing, at best. The primitives were useless when it came to space travel or communication. But it helped pass the time when you were being worshiped like a god.

 

Lotor lost track of the time he’d been on this rock when the transmission came. At first he thought it his father’s lackeys, sent to pick up the disgraced son. But this was not connected to him at all. It was merely intercepted chatter, but it was Galran. There was an object of great importance on Earth. There was a traitor trying to intercept. Lotor chuckled. Who else betrayed the Galra, other than him? His kind were generally content to be soldiers. Perhaps someone seeking to increase their own power. Or…The Blade of Marmora? This was interesting. His communicator was broken, and no doubt outdated. Lotor’s travel a quarter round the planet was frustratingly time-consuming and painfully dull.

 

By the time he made it to the dry red cave, his suspicions had been confirmed. Lotor could only dare to dream what it was that the operative had found, but to see those primitive blue drawings was a confirmation that sent a shiver of glee.

 

Lotor may be stuck on this forsaken planet, but he had something his father didn’t. The location of the blue lion.

 

She was beautiful. Lotor knew she would be. A combination of Altean and Galran efforts. Much like himself, in a way. The dirt was freshly scuffed, the stench of burnt flesh still in the air. Someone had disposed of the bodies and any tech, but the purple stain of Galran blood was harder to remove. Something had happened here. If his father’s men had found this place once before, more could again.

 

 The great mechanical beast wouldn't open for Lotor, of course.

 

Lotor spoke to her. Cursed her, praised her. Kicked the force field a fair amount of times. “If I can’t have you, I can at least make sure my father never gets his hands on you.”

 

The exiled prince had found a new mission, and set up camp. He may be here a while.

 

 

 

Keith felt the desert call. That’s the only way he could describe it. Shiro was gone. Iverson was a liar. He got kicked out of the Garrison, with nothing but the clothes on his back and the keys to Shiro’s old hoverbike. They waited until his eighteenth birthday to boot him, and Keith knew that was on purpose. His expulsion was pretty much a guarantee from the day they announced pilot error.

 

Keith grew up in a small shack in the desert, and the small shack in the desert is where he returned. His eyes stung. From the wind, from the sun. From the sheer gaping hole where Shiro used to be. The thought of his best friend, all alone in space, with no one looking for him…

 

Well, Keith would look for him. Keith would find Shiro. Whatever it took.

 

 

Lotor watched the human. It was a slender thing, all alone. He wore a bright red jacket and often sped around on a hovering vehicle. The primitive’s technology certainly had progressed since the day he first began his exile. At this rate, maybe they would exit the star system in another hundred decaphoebes.

 

He must have been a juvenile. On the cusp of adulthood. Humans didn’t live that long. Not as long as a typical Galra, and certainly not as long as himself. Lotor didn’t even know if he could die from old age. He had no doubts that he could be killed.

 

The young man entered the caves from time to time. He would take samples of rock, make sketches. Sometimes he would just sit, eyes closed, face in some sort of silent, tortured lament. Lotor wondered why he hurt. He hadn’t found the blue lion. Sometimes, Lotor wished that he would.

 

The man was always alone.

 

Just like him.


	2. Chapter 2

Lotor found himself venturing further and further from his post. He knew it was risky, knew that it wasn’t worth it. That wasn’t quite correct. Lotor knew it shouldn’t be worth it. That was the actual difference. He had previously stuck to all of the outer caves that connected to the inner sanctum. He skulked about the shadow and stalagmites, keeping an eye on the human.

He was quite beautiful, in a pale, furless way. There was something about his movements, though. The fluidity and strength reminded him of a big cat. It was funny, Lotor mused, how cats and lions had evolved independently in separate parts of the universe, with very little differences. Maybe that’s what happens with this boy, too, because at times Lotor could swear that he just wasn’t human.

It was the night. The human usually went back to that hovel of his. This night was different. Lotor heard a noise, a motor, and sure enough, the red hoverbike was swooping through the dunes. The movement was erratic, haphazard. They lacked the finesse and skill with the boy usually piloted so much that Lotor thought it stolen. He tailed at a distance until the man parked and dismounted at the top of a gorge. It was him. Lotor could see it was him. He stood at the edge of the gorge. He saw the boy move closer and closer, just a bit at a time as if seeing just how close he could get without falling to his certain death. 

Lotor was nearby now, hidden beside a cliff face and watching. He had never seen this behavior from him before. The man was disheveled. His hair was a wreck, and he was missing his jacket despite the chill of the desert at night. He was staring over the edge, looking at nothing. A loud bellow made its way from deep within the boy’s chest. It reminded Lotor of a Galran mourning cry, and Lotor was debating on whether to act when he suddenly backed away and collapsed into a heap. The boy’s body was shaking, undoubtedly from the cold as well as whatever anguish had brought him to the cliff’s edge that night. Sobs wracked the lithe body, and as the prince crept forward his nose curled at the familiar stench. He had encountered enough inebriated humans in his exile, and enough drunk galra before that. 

“It just kills me, every day that you are not here.” The man was talking to the void now. Lotor kept watch, and when the boy passed out in pile of limbs in the sand, he hefted him up into his arms and took him to the shelter of the cave.  
…

Keith woke up with his cheek against the sand. Where was he, and why did his head hurt. He blinked and stood up, which may not have been the best idea given his current state. The details slowly clicked into place. Yesterday had been Shiro’s birthday. Well, it had been March 1rst, anyway. On years when leaps didn’t fall, he had insisted on celebrating then instead of the 28th. He would have been 25. No, Keith corrected himself. Is 25. Shiro couldn’t be dead.

Keith wandered out of the cave he must have crawled to and made his way over to the hoverbike he had parked near the dunes where Shiro had first taken him out biking. If he could get that far drunk, he could make it back hung-over.

...

Lotor watched the boy leave. He wondered who it was that he had been missing, who had caused him to cry out and cling to Lotor in the night. The prince resolved to take care of him. Even if he didn't realize it, Desert Boy would never be alone again. Lotor wouldn't let him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't drink and hoverbike.


	3. Chapter 3

Lotor didn’t plan this. As much as he did fantasize about actually talking to the lonely desert boy, he had long resolved to be merely a shadow protector.

 

But Lotor would admit he was selfish. He could no longer keep his distance, so he just stopped trying. He didn’t actively communicate or anything, but he simply stopped being careful, stopped covering his tracks and stifling his sounds. He was openly leaving gifts now too, although the man didn’t seem to need it. Lotor left smoked meats and prickly fruits. He still guarded the lion, but some nights he would guard the small shack as well.

 

The man had another bad night. Lotor could hear cries through the shack, and when he stumbled out, apparently drunk, he followed him. The man was walking entirely too close to the edge of a ravine, and Lotor tailed close. When the man leaped onto him and yelled “Gotcha” and smelled clean as night, Lotor realized he had been played.

 

When the human caught glimpse of Lotor’s face, he stumbled back with a gasp’ He knew he was an unusual sight to humans. His purple skin, yellow eyes, and pointed ears have garnered him many reactions from the humans he has interacted with in the past.

The human’s eyes widened.  Lotor’s superior Altean ears picked up on a sharp intake of breath and a quickened heart rate.

 

“What are you?”

 

“Your kind usually think me an elf or fairy.”

 

“You are one who has been leaving me food. Explain.”

 

 “Perhaps I was captivated by your beauty and wished to lure you into my court and keep you for my own. Legend states that once a human consumes the food of the fae they can never leave.”

 

“Fairies aren’t real. Try. Again”

 

Lotor flashed a smile that he knew showed off his fangs.  
”I’ve also been called a demon.”

 

If this deceleration fazed the human at all, he didn’t show it. The primitives have been becoming less so as the years have gone on. They were still tens of thousands of decaphoebes away from touching where the Galra were or the Alteans had been, but superstitious had seemed to fade. He still drew attention, but he found if he did need to travel among humans he was just assumed to be wearing an intricate costume.

 

 

The young man pulled something off of his hip. In a flash, Lotor found himself staring at the business end of a luxite blade, something that shouldn’t even be on this planet, that was rare enough as it was off of it. “I know what you are.”

 

Not one to easily be ruffled, Lotor merely clapped slowly. “Bravo. So the Blades of Marmora have beaten the Empire, for once. Congratulations are in order.” He thought back to the intercepted chatter. It had to be what, 15 decaphoebes ago or so. This blade was clever, making it look as though he had left. Disguising himself as a too young human.

 

The boy backed up a bit. Confusion marked his features, but the blade did not waver.

 

“I’ve got to ask; how did you manage to blend in so well? Holotech? Shapeshifting?” If there was one thing (and in truth, there were a great deal of things) that Lotor was bitter about, it was that he did not inherit the Altean shapeshifting ability. Not that he had much interest in living as the human, but it certainly would have made his travel to this Arizona much easier if he had.

 

Violet eyes flicked from Lotor to the blade. When he returned his gaze to the prince, there was even more of an edge to it. “What are you talking about? What do you know about my knife?”

 

Surely he didn’t misread the situation that badly. Lotor narrowed his eyes and kept his reply cool. “You said you knew me.”

 

The young man shook his head. He lowers the blade but did not sheath it. “I know you’re not from Earth.”

 

Lotor considered this. “You say that as though you are.”

 

“I am!” There was a fierceness in his tone. A defensiveness. As though perhaps he know had his own doubts. “My pop raised me himself, right here in this house.” Interesting. “That knife is all I have of my ma.” Very interesting.

 

….

After spending a few quintents with the boy, Lotor’s feeling for him only grew. His heart ached for Keith when he told him of all he went through, with his father’s death and the disappearance of his mentor. And when Lotor saw the look in his eyes when Keith spoke of Shiro, his heart just plain ached.

 

…...

Keith continued to be wary of this purple-skinned stranger.

But he couldn’t deny the comfort that came with knowing that there was another life out there. That there were intelligent, technologically advanced beings, and they had at least occasionally traveled to Earth’s solar system. Shiro really could still be okay.

 

It had been about a month after they met that Lotor took Keith to the cave with the blue lion. She was huge and she was magnificent, and if the whole giant purple space-elf thing hadn’t convinced him of aliens than well, this mechanical wonder did.

 

That afternoon, as they stood in front of the strange pulsing force field no earth science could explain, Lotor reached down and carefully traced Keith’s jaw with a furry clawed finger. He gently tipped Keith’s jaw up, gazing into his starlight eyes.

 

….

Maybe it was the thrill of seeing the blue lion. Maybe it was loneliness.

All Lotor knew is that Keith had reached up and pulled him down to his lips. His feisty Desert Boy.

 

 

 

  **Later**

 

A shape was streaking toward the earth with the blazing tail of an object that had entered the atmosphere without proper precaution.

 

“That is a Galra craft.” Lotor would recognize one anywhere.

 

Keith was already pulling on his boots and drawing a dark red dust mask over the bottom half of his face. He tossed Lotor his cloak.

 

With Keith driving and Lotor sitting directly behind, the two sped off toward their fate.

 

Together. The desert calls.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t believe this! It’s Keith?”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

Lance handed Hunk the binoculars. “I’d recognize that mullet anywhere!”

 

“And do you recognize that really tall guy he’s kissing? Because I think I’d remember a tall purple guy”

 

 

Lance squawked. Never before has he snatched anything as fast as he did in that moment. “Give me those!”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!   
> I'm on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/umbra-domitor)


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